Three Kinds of Trouble (THE SONS OF TEMPLAR MC #9) by Anne Malcom EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Anne Malcom
- Language: English
- Genre: contemporary romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
I’ve always attracted trouble.
My father, when he was sober enough to remember who I
was, would always say,
“Freya, you were put on this earth to
create three kinds of trouble. Trouble for your parents.
Trouble for whoever is unlucky enough to fall in love with
you, and most of all, trouble for yourself.”
Though he might not have been the wisest man, nor the
kindest or the soberest, my father always spoke the truth.
I didn’t try to attract trouble. In fact, I actively avoided it.
But somehow, it found me. Like it had tonight.
With the man bleeding in front of me. From a stab wound.
A stab wound.
It wasn’t just any man bleeding from a stab wound, but
one with a crapload of muscles and tattoos, wearing an
unmistakable leather vest. They called it a cut, the bikers.
The Sons of Templar.
After the night I’d had, after the life I’d had, I did not
want to have to deal with a bleeding member of the Sons of
Templar MC, but I couldn’t just leave him there bleeding,
could I?
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, rushing over to the
man currently hemorrhaging in the middle of the desolate
parking lot. The parking lot outside the club was thankfully
well lit, because our boss was actually decent and didn’t
want us feeling unsafe while walking to our cars. Usually,
there was someone available to walk us to our cars. Usually I
was lucky enough not to finish my shift while Dante was still
on the clock. Dante… an apt name for him since I was pretty
sure he was spawned in the fires of hell.
As much as I despised the man and actually felt safer
walking to my car when he wasn’t around, I would’ve even
taken Dante right then. He might’ve been a misogynistic,
narcissistic asshole, but he had enough self-preservation to
know you didn’t fuck with the Sons of Templar. Plus, he
would’ve wanted to be in their good books, since I’d heard a
rumor that he’d tried to prospect with them and didn’t make
the cut. Apparently, he was desperate for their approval, for
a second chance.
Watching him try to act cool and badass in
front of them whenever they came into the club was a huge
cringe-fest. So if Dante was here, he would’ve dealt with
this, most likely banishing me from the scene because
according to him, women couldn’t possibly deal with this
kind of thing. And he wouldn’t want anyone possibly taking
away whatever glory would come from saving a member of
the club.
But Dante wasn’t there.
No one was there.
Just me.
Because I’d stayed at the club writing emails to friends all
over the country, catching up on all the messages I’d
mentally told myself to reply to later but then had forgotten
all about. I’d also forgotten about the fact that Kallum was
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